Reach for Tomorrow (20 page)
‘All right, lass?’
The start Molly gave jerked her up and round in the bed, and she huddled against the ornate headboard with her fists clutching the covers to her throat and her eyes wide and staring before she managed to gasp, ‘I . . . I didn’t hear you come in.’
It was the man from the night before and he nodded his balding head slowly, the little bits of hair sticking out above his ears in wispy grey curls giving him a slightly ludicrous air, like a clown. But there was nothing comical about his face, or his eyes, which were of an unusual dark steel grey and very piercing. He stared at her now until Molly, becoming unnerved by the overt scrutiny, began to cry, and then he waited a moment before saying, ‘No need for that, lass.’
‘I want to go home.’
‘Do you, lass? That’s not what you said to Jessie an’ Lil, now then. You told them you couldn’t go home, didn’t you, that your mam an’ your sister would skin you alive for what you’d done.’
Molly’s head drooped, and in a low voice she said, ‘I do, I want to go home,’ but her voice was less certain now.
‘You’re a bonny lass, you know that, don’t you.’ It was not a question and Molly didn’t speak or raise her head in the pause that followed. ‘An’ from what you told Jessie you’re no green bairn. Now them scum last night, you need protectin’ from that sort. If they want it they should pay right good for it, you get me meanin’? That way it does you some good an’ all an’ you can afford to be choosy. An’ if you’re canny . . .’ This time Molly raised her head in the silence that followed. ‘If you’re canny you can make on that it’s the first time an’ such, some of ’em will pay a small fortune for that with a lass as young as you, even if the bairn is as plain as a pikestaff. An’ you ain’t plain, lass, far from it.’ And then, changing his tack, he said, ‘You like me room?’
Molly nodded, startled by the question.
‘This is nothin’, lass, nothin’. I know one or two who have gone on to have their own gentleman in their own place, maids an’ everythin’. Does that appeal?’
Molly wasn’t quite sure what he was saying now and so she just continued staring at him as her teeth gnawed at her lower lip.
‘You think on, lass. You could do a darn sight worse.’
Molly drew in a short shuddering breath. ‘Are you goin’ to keep me here?’
‘For the time bein’, lass, for the time bein’. Like I said, you’re under me protection now, an’ I want you to think about what I’m sayin’. There’s hundreds, thousands, live an’ work an’ die in two rooms with a pack of brats about ’em an’ their stomachs always full with the next one. That’s what they call wedded bliss, lass. Is that what you want? To wed one of the nowts round here an’ live in muck an’ filth? You’re a long time dead, lass. Remember that.’
He waited a moment and when no rejoinder was forthcoming limped to the door and knocked twice. ‘I’ll be sendin’ Jessie in with a bite, lass, an’ I’m sure you’d be likin’ a wash an’ a pretty new dress, eh? I’ve a few you might fancy, an’ there’s a real bonny one of white lace an’ silk. How does that sound?’
And then as the door was opened from the outside Charlie Cullen smiled, in the warm fatherly way he could adopt with ‘his’ bairns when he chose, and nodded at her before leaving.
When Jessie came she fussed and soothed Molly, helping her to bathe and change into the new clothes and then sitting by her while she ate a meal of black pudding and bread and cheese. ‘There, hinny. That’s better, ain’t it? You have a bit of a sleep now, an’ I’ll see if I can sort you out some chocolates later if you’re a good lassie. It’s roast chicken for dinner, you like chicken, don’t you?’
Molly nodded. She had only tasted chicken a couple of times, at Christmas - the rest of the year it was scrag ends and rabbit and the like - but she liked it all right, and
chocolates
. . . Her eyes gleamed at the thought.
chocolates
. . . Her eyes gleamed at the thought.
‘That’s right, ’course you do. You’re not goin’ to give old Jessie any trouble, are you. Now I’ll be back later an’ I won’t forget them chocolates.’
Once she was alone again Molly curled up in a little ball amongst the covers, but she wasn’t frightened any more. She stroked the silk of her new dress, her fingers caressing the softness as her eyelids grew heavy, and within minutes she was fast asleep.
‘Rosie? That man over there? He says he wants to speak to you, lass.’
‘What?’ Following her early morning visit to Annie, Rosie had been on her feet all day, added to which it had been deliveries, and with Beryl - the young woman who had taken her job when she replaced Agnes - off ill, and Mabel having gone home early due to an argument with the cheese slicer which had resulted in Mabel almost losing the tips of two fingers and fainting flat out on the floor in the process, it had meant she and Sally hadn’t had time to draw breath.
‘
Rosie.
’ The tone of Sally’s voice now checked her, and Rosie raised her eyes from the long list of orders she was inspecting and looked fully into the other girl’s face. ‘He said it was important, lass.’
Rosie.
’ The tone of Sally’s voice now checked her, and Rosie raised her eyes from the long list of orders she was inspecting and looked fully into the other girl’s face. ‘He said it was important, lass.’
‘Who said what was important?’
‘Him.’ Sally inclined her head towards the door of the shop where Nick Pace was standing just inside the threshold and to one side of a stack of large round cheeses that had recently been delivered. ‘It might be somethin’ to do with your Molly, mighten it?’
‘Carry on taking the orders through to the stock room.’ Rosie was already walking towards the tall thin man whose hawk-like gaze was narrowed on her face.
‘I’m a pal of Zac’s.’ Nick never wasted time on unnecessary niceties. ‘He came to see me this mornin’ about the bairn an’ I’ve heard a whisper, but he’s not home an’ I’ve gotta get back. Tell him to come an’ see Nick tonight, all right, lass?’
‘Oh please.’ Rosie found herself clutching hold of his jacket. ‘Can’t you tell me? She’s my sister.’
Aye, and that was exactly why he couldn’t tell her. ‘Just tell Zac, lass.’ Nick had to prise her fingers from the lapel of his coat - for a little ’un she’d got a grip like the rent man on a Friday night. ‘Tell him I’ll be in Oldman’s, he knows where it is.’
‘Rosie?’ Sally was at her elbow as the shop door closed behind Nick and the bell stopped tinkling. ‘Trouble, lass?’ And then, when Rosie just stared at her as her mind drew forth and considered one horror after another, Sally said, her tone bracing, ‘Come on, canny lass. When life skelps you on the lug, you don’t offer the scab your backside an’ all, as me old gran used to say. Mind you, me gran was full of sayin’s like that, an’ no one could ever understand a word she said.’
‘Oh, Sally.’ Rosie leant limply against this tall, thin, ugly girl she had come to like so much and smiled shakily. ‘You really are one on your own.’ From the day Rosie had started work at the Co-op Sally had made the days full of fun and amusement with her own wicked brand of humour, and when Rosie had introduced her to Flora, and the two of them had hit it off like a house on fire, Rosie couldn’t have been more pleased.
‘Aye, that’s what Mick says.’ Mick was Sally’s intended, a big, rough Irish lad of nineteen who had a brogue so thick you could cut it with a knife and a heart of gold. Having horses in his blood, he worked in the Co-op stables, which had been built to house the many horses that were used in the delivery service. Sally often said that the only reason Mick had started courting her in the first place was because she resembled one of his beloved horses. ‘Well, was it about Molly he called?’
Rosie swallowed deeply, and after she had told Sally what Nick had said there was a moment’s silence. ‘I’m not happy about Zachariah going alone, Sally, not if there might be any trouble. I think I’ll call on Annie on my way home and see if the lads are available tonight.’
Sally nodded. ‘Aye, lass, good idea, an’ my Mick’ll go along of him an’ all, you know that, an’ he’s got a couple of brothers who could bend iron bars with their teeth.’
‘Really?’ Rosie wasn’t surprised. Mick’s family was vast and all the men seemed to be great bruisers.
‘Aye, ugly great so-an’-sos they are, an’ they like nothin’ better than a good punch-up. I’ve seen ’em break a man’s nose without turnin’ a hair. Zachariah’ll be all right with them.’
Rosie smiled wryly, but she agreed with the general principle and so it transpired later that evening that while Zachariah, Mick, his brothers and the McLinnies made their way to Oldman’s - a well-known bar and ginshop close to the foul-smelling chemical works - Sally and Flora came round to sit with Rosie, Jessie and Hannah and keep them company. And with Sally and Flora in residence the hours, in spite of the dire circumstances, were not without their moments of humour.
The women heard the men return at just after ten, and it seemed as though a giant hand kept each one pressed in her seat as the footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Jessie hadn’t touched a drop of beer all night although everything in her was calling out for its numbing power to obliterate the consuming guilt and fear she had felt since awakening that morning, with her usual thick head and furry tongue, and finding Molly gone. This with Molly was her fault, oh aye it was, right enough, and that’s what the lot of them were thinking behind their comforting words. She knew, she wasn’t stupid. But it was easy for them, wasn’t it, they hadn’t lost a husband and two bairns who had been flesh of her flesh. What did they know, what did any of them know? They were young, they’d got youth on their side, but she . . . She’d lost her man. Her life was over. It was all very well for Annie McLinnie to say she wasn’t playing fair by Rosie and that she should get up off her backside and do something. Oh, she wouldn’t forgive Annie for that, by, she wouldn’t. And there Annie was, sitting pretty with her Arthur and five great hulking sons to look after her, well, four not counting her Shane. Annie didn’t know she was born and she’d told her so in the minutes before the constable had knocked at the door. And the shame of that. It’d be with her to her dying day, and she hoped that was soon. Aye, she did. She hadn’t been a wicked woman, all her life she’d tried to do her best, and now all this had come upon her while some of them got away with near murder and still the sun shone down on them. And their Molly, aw, Molly. What had happened to her?
Rosie was asking exactly the same question and she had been trying to prepare herself all night for the possible answer. One thing was for sure, there was something dark and nasty at the bottom of all this. She had told the police all she knew, but according to the constable who had called round earlier that evening Ronnie Tiller had flatly denied giving Molly anything but the odd penny or two to spend on sweets. She didn’t intend to leave the matter there, though. Oh no.
And then the door swung wide.
‘Oh, Zachariah! You’ve found her.’
‘Bloomin’ hell, Mick. You look like you’ve done a few rounds with Jack Dempsey.’ This was from Sally.
‘Molly. Molly, lass. Aw, me bairn.’
The sudden babble of voices that greeted the two men entering the room was deafening. Rosie moved forward, motioning for Mick who was holding Molly in his arms wrapped in a thickly padded silk embroidered eiderdown to place her sister on the saddle in front of the fire, and then she took her into her arms, holding her tight before she drew back a little to look into the small white face. The huge green eyes stared back at her, a mute appeal in their shadowed depths, and it was in answer to that that Rosie said, as she straightened and made way for her mother and Hannah to hug Molly, ‘She’s back, and we can go into the whys and wherefores later. Why don’t you put Molly to bed, Mam, in a minute, and you and Hannah stay with her while I have a word with Zachariah downstairs.’
She glanced meaningfully at Jessie, who was now sitting on the side of the saddle with Molly in her lap, and her mother - after opening her mouth to argue and then catching Rosie’s eye - said, ‘Aye, lass, aye. I’ll do that,’ as she continued to hold Molly close.
Mick had walked back to the open door after depositing his cocoon on the saddle and was clearly anxious to be gone, and as Zachariah said, ‘I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready, lass,’ Flora and Sally hugged her in turn, without speaking, and joined him.
‘I can never thank all of you enough for tonight, you know that, don’t you?’ As Rosie spoke her thanks she noticed Mick was sporting a cut lip and a rapidly swelling black eye, and that Zachariah also bore evidence of some kind of violent altercation, and it caused her to add, ‘The others? The McLinnies and Mick’s brothers? Are they all right?’
‘Aye, lass, don’t worry about them.’ She had spoken to Zachariah but it was Mick who answered, and he continued, ‘You get the bairn to bed an’ I’ll make sure these two’ - the sweep of his hand included Flora and Sally - ‘get home all right.’
Once she was alone with her mother and sisters Rosie chivvied them into the bedroom. She asked no questions and Molly proffered no explanations, but once Molly and Hannah were tucked up in bed and her mother was undressing, Rosie sat and stroked the children’s faces for a moment before she rose. Under the eiderdown Molly had been clothed in a white lace dress that was now lying on top of the covers, and it was only when Jessie climbed into the bed the three of them were sharing, and Rosie, as she made to leave the room, reached for the dress and the eiderdown, that Molly seemed to come to life.
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